In Safe Hands
by TheFABFive2015
Summary: TAG 2015. Set after the second part of SOS, this story also features my original characters from Emergency!The Next Generation. Team Tracy is still reeling from the attempt on Gordon's life. Team Stanley is there to help.


Hello again, folks, and welcome to my latest story for these FABulous new episodes.

Wow, wasn't part two of SOS amazing?! Poor Gordon!

I really wasn't sure what to write after seeing this episode. I knew I wanted to write something, but couldn't decide what.

I've also been itching to write another crossover with my Emergency! The Next Generation characters, that I introduced in Endings And Beginnings. So here are my thoughts on how Team Tracy and Team Stanley work together to get our favourite Squidlett some _very_ special TLC.

This one's for you, Megan. I hope you enjoy the little surprise I have for you at the end ;o)

* * *

In Safe Hands

Through the quirks of time and his ancestry, Ryan Stanley had inherited a lot of his great grandfather's instincts. Its most useful - his ability to sense when something was wrong - kicked in as soon as he heard Scott Tracy's voice. This second attempt to confirm their next visit had clearly come at a _very_ bad time.

"Sorry I missed you, Ry. We're... uh... with Gordon in ICU... hospital, he's... uh... in hospital..."

Within this tumble of words, one hit him with enough force to land him back on his desk in an inelegant flop.

Hospital. The word he'd always dreaded to hear from his own family. His own crew. A word that had his instant attention, as more followed through a voice that still betrayed the worry it was trying to hide.

"He'll be okay, Ry. He's out of critical condition, but it's... it's still bad, Ry. Real bad."

In the silence that followed, Ryan ran the all too familiar scenarios through his mind. Getting hurt on the job was all part of the lives they'd chosen to follow, but - _damn_. When it happened as seriously as this, it still scared the hell out of you.

As a leader himself, he felt every bit of Scott's anguish. That gut wrenching helplessness that someone he loved was hurt, and there was nothing he could do to ease his pain.

God, he sounded awful. The commander of the most respected rescue team in the world sounded like he was dead on his feet. Knowing Scott, he'd have stuck to his injured brother like glue until_ he_ was satisfied he was out of danger. Hours, most likely, while he also tried to support his equally shell-shocked family.

So yes, now he understood why Scott sounded so thoroughly frazzled. And however innocent it was, the game of tag that now spilled into Big Red's bay was _not_ appreciated. The last thing he wanted to hear right now was laughter. An edge that he rarely had to use snapped through a yell for quiet.

"Hey, settle down! It's Scott, there's... there's been an accident. Gordon's hurt."

Instant silence. Horrified stares. Then the rush of five anxious firefighters through the doorway to his office - a raised hand stalling the question they all wanted to ask, while a switch to his comms unit took away its need.

"I've got you on speaker, Scott, and we're all here for you. Now, what happened? How bad is it?"

Another pause, that Ryan knew was needed for Scott's benefit as well as theirs. And just as he knew how Alan Tracy would need it right now, so he offered his own family baby the same hug of comfort. Just days after his own brush with death, Mikey would need its reassurance.

For him, it had been the near lethal turn of a wildfire, that had left him shaken and scared, and understandably quieter than usual. But beyond the appreciation that gave it fresh strength, the strain in Scott's voice still spoke volumes. His brother's knock at death's door had been terrifyingly louder.

"He was caught in a lava slide when he was... well, that's not important. And like I said, he'll be okay. But his right leg has a bad break beneath the knee, and his left arm's broken at the wrist and shoulder. There's also three broken ribs, one of which has punctured his lung... two cracked vertebrae, and bruising around his back... and one peach of a concussion..."

Silence that ended with a sigh this time, betraying the exhaustion beyond it. Glancing again at his brother, Scott had to bite down the fury that still raged inside him. Brushing back Gordon's hair, he whispered a bitter, heartfelt promise to the bastard who'd damn near killed him.

'_Wherever you are, Hood... you'll pay for this_...'

More silence on Team Stanley's side too, as they all traded shocked glances. You didn't need to be a paramedic, or even a first aid trained firefighter, to know how serious these injuries were. Even when Chris De Soto offered his reassurance, everyone knew it wasn't out of professional courtesy. To him, and everyone else, this was personal. This was family. And every one of them felt it.

"Wow, he's taken one hell of a hit there, Scott... but he's in the best place, right? With the best family in the world there with him."

As he'd hoped, the voice came back stronger this time. To their relief, it even held a touch of wry, but so very welcome humour.

"Thanks, Chris... yeah, I know... none of these injuries are life changing, but... well, he's still going to be laid up for at least six weeks. And you know Gordon. However occupied we try to keep him, he is going to _hate_ that."

"Yeah, Scott, we sure do."

The response came from Mikey this time, with the quietness of recalling his own, still raw experience of nearly losing his life. Okay, so it had just been for a night's observation, but he'd still hated it. He could only imagine how his fellow Hyper Nut, as his Chief fondly called them, would cope with days and weeks of enforced idleness.

Then he brightened, in proof that you could never keep a Stoker down for long. The smile returned to his face, while his eyes regained their shine. And, of course, he had to ask what every one of them were thinking.

"Hey, can we come see him, Scott? Try and cheer him up a bit?"

Even if the answer wasn't what he'd hoped for, it was still a relief to hear the laughter in Scott's voice. The same, loving affection that came from raising, guiding and indulging his own family babies.

"Thanks, Mikey, I know he'd really appreciate that. But where the accident happened, we're kinda far from home, so... hey, maybe wait 'til the weekend, okay? When you were going to come see us anyway, and we'll be back on the island. His doctors said he'll recover a lot quicker there, where he knows his way around, and we can all keep an eye on him."

Unseen by the rest of his crew, Ryan frowned. Getting International Rescue back on call made perfect sense, of course, but... no. That '_something's up_' instinct had kicked in again - first from the way Scott had shut down on what had caused that landslide, and now this decision to get his injured brother back to Tracy Island.

From the way Chris and Roddy had glanced at each other, they were as surprised by it as he was. A patient with such severe injuries wouldn't usually be discharged as quickly as this.

Inwardly at least, Ryan's frown deepened. More was going on here than a simple accident, or a rescue that had gone so terribly wrong. Every connection he had to the commander of International Rescue was bugging him to find out what it was.

But not now. And not like this - over an unsecured line that could be intercepted by whatever, or whoever, was threatening the Tracy family's lives. No, this was a discussion they'd have in private - safely away from prying eyes or ears.

For now, his thoughts turned back to Scott - balancing how much they were looking forward to this visit against knowing that Gordon's welfare had to come first.

"Well, if you're sure we won't be in the way, Scott, we'll see you Saturday. And if you need us to cancel, we'll all understand..."

Beside him, five hopeful faces then grinned with delight at the response that their Chief especially had wanted to hear. It meant Scott hadn't just picked up the hint, he'd also caught its underlying motive.

"Believe me, Ry, you'll be more than welcome. We've got a _lot_ to catch up on... and Grandma can't wait to make a fuss of Mikey..."

Yeah, wasn't that the truth? As soon as she'd met the baby of Ryan Stanley's crew, those mothering instincts had gone into overdrive. Whether he liked it or not - and he really rather did - Mikey Stoker now had an extra grandma.

Recalling the less welcome side of her hospitality, the grin widened - enough for real dimples to appear again, as he spoke on his sleeping brother's behalf.

"And bring snacks. _Lots_ of snacks."

* * *

They'd brought snacks. Well, not so much snacks as enough food to feed a small army. Or two fate-connected families. Or one convalescing Gordon Tracy.

Not surprisingly, most of it had gone into storage. The meds he still needed to dull excruciating pain to more tolerable levels had also taken away his appetite. Instead of demolishing a whole pizza, he could barely manage one small slice.

Even so, he was still thrilled by this visit that he'd looked forward to as much as Ryan and his team. Less than an hour after their arrival, it had worked wonders in cheering him up. And yes, sleep would come a lot easier for him now with the fire engine plushies they'd brought him. Five of them, destined to make the mother of plushie forts when he was back on his feet.

Such frivolity was a long way off for him now, of course. Even with the fitness that had saved his life on his side, Gordon still faced a long and painful road to recovery.

To the practised eyes of a Stanley, its many frustrations and setbacks weren't just affecting the patient either. For the brother who still had to keep International Rescue running while bringing his brother through this traumatic experience, it was one hell of a load to bear.

Watching him now, as he watched his brothers, Scott was still oddly quiet. Deep in thought, as if an even greater weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders. So the now major task of getting a fresh round of drinks and nibbles gave him just the chance he was looking for to try and ease its load.

"Here, Scott. Let me help you with that."

He might have been imagining it too, but he was sure the smile on Scott's face held more than gratitude. No, it was more like relief, for the release this private chat between them would bring. The weight of the world was a lot easier to bear when you had a trusted friend to share it with.

Even so, Ryan didn't push for answers. And when Scott finally spoke, he knew he wasn't just referring to the mass of mugs and plates in front of them.

"This is gonna take a while, Ry."

Yeah, he'd figured that out already. They were going to need another tray, for sure. And, needless to say, he had an equally double-meaning answer all ready to go.

"No problem, Scott. Now, where do we start?"

That smile again, that carried a lifetime of thanks behind it. Back in 1970s Los Angeles, it had been for the firehouse captain who'd become his second father. Ninety three years later, Hank Stanley's great grandson brought him the same, priceless support.

Where _should_ he start, though? And how much should he say? To tell the whole story, and put his surrogate brothers in danger too? Or just what Ryan Stanley needed to know, on a need to know basis?

Scott found the answer in his friend's eyes. Poignantly warm and compassionate, silently telling him that their friendship could handle anything that their lives of service and duty could throw at it. Bonds of loyalty and trust that he knew Chris, and Roddy, and CB, and Juan, and Mikey, all shared just as deeply.

The burden he'd felt just hours before felt immeasurably lighter. His brothers by other mothers were right there beside him. Not just for the weekend either, but for however long they were needed. It made his choice of answer thankfully easier.

Taking a deep breath, then another, he started to recall the third darkest day in the Tracy family's lives.

"It wasn't an accident, Ry. Gordon was rescuing a robot that keeps sending us this SOS message, and... well, The Hood was there too, with the Chaos Crew. They wanted that robot too. They were going to go to any lengths to make sure _we_ didn't get it, and... damn it, Ry. Never in my worst nightmares did I think he'd resort to this. He tried to kill my brother, Ry. And he damn near succeeded."

A pause now, both to compose himself, and to sort out a dizzying list of drinks. For Gordon's mug, there was an extra long moment of holding it, gently stroking the name embossed upon it, before he put it next to the others.

Knowing how vital this ritual of healing normality was, Ryan left him to it. He needed this moment to assure himself that his brother was in albeit broken pieces, but still alive. Then again, the gesture of squeezing his shoulder, and letting his hand rest there, said more than a telltale soft whisper.

_"_Thanks, Ry_."_

He didn't need Scott to say anything more either. He'd put enough pieces of this puzzle together himself. Yes, this explained everything that his instincts had told him before. Why Scott had shut down over the real cause of Gordon's injuries. Why he'd discharged his brother so quickly. Why he'd flown out to collect them in an unmarked plane, instead of ST1.

Releasing a breath he'd not even realized he'd been holding, he then shook his head. Brought them both gently back to present reality as he poured in a selection of milk, cream and sugar.

"That's why you've brought him back here to Tracy Island, right? You think these maniacs could still go after him?"

Still lost in thought, Scott nodded, silently confirming his greatest fear. The Hood had failed this time. But, as he quietly revealed, the threat to his brother's life still hadn't passed.

"John was monitoring the hospitals that were closest to where he got hurt. The bastard who fired those missiles at him was calling every one of 'em, asking how he was, and if he was going to be okay. Luckily, he was already in a GDF facility, and Fuse had no idea where it was, but... yeah, call me paranoid, but thirty seconds later, I still had a squad of GDF guards outside his room."

"Paranoid, hell," Ryan retorted, with enough of a smile to make his point without trivialising its importance. "Scott, you did what anyone else in that situation would do. You were keeping your brother safe. Take it from me, pal, no one does that the way you do."

Another sigh, as Scott shrugged in not quite convinced agreement. The thought of his little brother, alone and defenceless against those missiles, would haunt him for many weeks and months to come.

If Virgil were there, of course, he'd have sensed the guilt that still plagued him. The family counsellor would have offered the comfort that Ryan gently did in his place.

"You couldn't have known about that ambush, Scott. C'mon, get off this guilt trip, and think about Gordon. He's safe, he's alive... and there's no way in hell that he'd think this was your fault."

One more squeeze on his shoulder, and the Scott Tracy he knew so well started to return. Gratitude and belief chased away the doubt in his eyes. A genuine smile lit up his face.

Ryan's face, though, held a puzzled frown. With everything his friend had been through, he didn't know if he should ask this next question or not. Yet Scott's expression was almost encouraging him to do so.

"I've just got to ask, Scott. This robot that The Hood was so determined to take away from you... what's so special about it?"

To his surprise, the smile turned to an all out, canyon-dimpled grin. Excitement that reminded him of a certain engineer sparked through his eyes, and brought the rest of its strength back to Scott's voice.

"Oh, it's special, Ry. _Really_ special. That SOS I mentioned had a signal embedded into its code. It's our dad's signal, Ry. He's still alive, he's still out there somewhere... and he's trying to contact us."

If there'd been another desk nearby, Ryan would have flopped onto it. But there wasn't. And no shock from this bombshell either. Instead, he punched the air, and wrapped Scott in a hug of mutual joy.

"Damn, Scott, that's great! Do you have any idea where he is? If you need any help finding him, just say the word, and we'll be right there with you."

That earned him an all out chuckle of laughter. Oh, there may have been the biggest grin on his friend's face, but Scott knew he was completely serious. Every one of his 'other' brothers would follow him to the ends of the earth. But as he wryly explained, that wasn't going to be far enough.

"Well, unless Big Red can fly into space, I'm afraid you won't. That's where the signal's coming from, Ry. _Really_ deep space. Brains is trying to get more of a lock on it, and... well, that's our primary mission now. Unless it's something only we can deal with, the GDF can handle pretty much any situation that we can. So until we find our father, International Rescue has become Family Rescue."

Reminded of what another Family Rescue had almost cost them, Scott's grin faded, then vanished completely, for the dream that, for one of his brothers at least, had been brutally dashed. And the nightmare that continued to haunt him.

"We've waited so long for this, Ry. Almost eight years now, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Even I'd started to think we'd never find him. For every one of those years, all of us wanted to be there to bring him home. But while we're out there, on the most important mission of our lives, Gordon's going to be stuck here. He'll be in that body cast for at least another week, and he'll need months more therapy after that. I just don't know who I can find and trust out there to provide it. The specialist who helped me after Delta Fifteen has long since retired, and I hate to say it, but the GDF isn't safe enough either. The Hood can take on any appearance he wants to, and... well, he's gotten inside the GDF before. I can't risk that happening again."

He'd managed to get onto the island too, of course, but Kayo's new defences would ensure that would never happen again. Her uncle may have had the technology to change his face, but he couldn't change his DNA.

Enraged by his attack on her adoptive brother, she'd programmed a sample of it into their alarm systems. Any attempt he made to breach them again would result in a _very_ painful surprise.

So yes, Tracy Island was now better protected than it had ever been before. A fortified refuge where his brother could heal and recover in safety. Another small comfort that Scott had gladly accepted. Yet he still needed so much more. His brother needed specialist care, and he didn't know who to trust enough to provide it.

Hell, they all did. His family may have been safe now, but Gordon wasn't the only one who'd been left broken by this ordeal. A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, to an unexpectedly welcome solution.

"Scott? I know someone who can help. Megan McCall. She's the best nurse Rampart's had since her grandmother, and the best trauma therapist I've ever met. If you don't mind her staying with you, she'll get Gordon through this. She'll get _all_ of you through this."

As he'd hoped, Scott was grinning again, already nodding his agreement. He'd never met Dixie McCall personally, but everything he'd heard from Hank Stanley painted her as nothing short of a legend. If her grand-daughter had a fraction of her brilliance as a nurse, his brother would be in the very best of hands.

He still had to meet her, of course. See how she interacted with Gordon, and the rest of his family, before he made such a massive decision on their behalf.

A quick call to Los Angeles, and it was all set. Scott would collect her from Van Nuys Airfield the next morning, and fly her in for a _very_ special assignment.

As soon as he saw her walking towards him, Scott knew he'd done the right thing. Only the military trained you to stride like that. Recalling Ryan's description of her as "part den mother, part Mama Bear, part drill sergeant...", he had to bite down a burst of laughter. With over twenty years of trauma nursing under her belt, she knew her job, and she knew it well. Only the very brave of the very foolish would dare to say otherwise.

There'd be no threat to his brother's budding romance either. Closer in age to their grandmother than Penny, the only threat she posed to him were the same maternal instincts. As Ryan had dryly warned him, she was one _hell_ of a hugger. Mikey, apparently, could testify to that.

Beyond the professional, too, shone an innate compassion. Clear brown eyes met his with a warmth that forged instant trust and respect between them. And boy, that handshake! She'd damn near snapped his fingers.

All that was forgiven and forgotten, though, when she greeted him. Brisk and business-like, with sparks of mischief still dancing through her voice.

"Well, Scott, if you aren't every inch your father's son. I never knew him personally, but for everything he stands for, it's an honour to meet you."

Thinking once more of her grandmother, Scott returned both handshake and smile with the same depth of both pride and sincerity.

"Same here, Megan. And thanks again for coming to _our_ rescue. I can't begin to tell you how much we appreciate it."

So far, so good. And by the time they reached Tracy Island, it felt as if they'd known each other for years. But the best indication of how she'd fit into her new, extended family came when they stepped into the den.

Beyond the introductions and handshakes - and one of those famous hugs for Mikey - her eyes had settled on her naturally apprehensive patient. Sitting beside him, she took Gordon's hand into hers, and said everything that he needed to hear.

"Eight weeks of therapy, huh? What do you say we make it six?"

Recovering himself, Gordon's face broke into the biggest smile since he'd come home. Standing together beside his couch, two sets of brothers traded equally happy grins. All of them could feel the new sense of hope and belief around them.

For Scott, there was the assurance of knowing his brother was in the safest possible hands. And for Ryan, there was the gleeful knowledge of what was to come.

"Mikey'll vouch for this, pal. He's _doomed_."


End file.
